


The August Writings!

by PDdoop



Category: Fantasy! - Fandom, Ghost! - Fandom, More to come! - Fandom, Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PDdoop/pseuds/PDdoop
Summary: For ONE MONTH I am gonna be writing stories every single day! Even if my internet goes out I’ll likely write them in my notes and THEN post them! I should probably mention I’m mostly gonna use my OCs. But! I may make some stories based off moments of actual characters.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

First Prompt? Steam Powered Giraffe!

———

“Alright.” A Walter Worker by the name of Wallie slinks over to the currently turned off robot in front of him.

“It’s my turn to do re-activation cause of course Miley tricked me into having the shortest stick obviously with her attempts of hypnotism.” The Walter Worker grumbled as he picked up a clipboard. “Alright. Turn on.” He spoke to the inactive robot.

And... nothing happens. Causing Wallie to frown as he sets back down the clipboard. “I could’ve sworn I- AH-“ A scream leaves his lips as the station the robot was attached to sparked. It fidgets a couple times and bright blue eyes open. A smile following the activation.

And Wallie quickly steps back. This was an evil one huh? The dreams HES been having of fighting a bear- wait no. The OTHER dream of fighting an evil robot. It’s here. And it’s-  
Weirdly cute?  
The swirls on its cheeks. That would likely be rosey if human. The copper and black mixing together nicely. Hm. Clothes could be cleaned. And not made of dust at the moment.

The robot awaits its order. So Wallie stands straighter. Though immediately slouching to read the clipboard.

“Give me your name.”

“Oh! I’m... hm.” The robot puts a hand to his chin and looks around. “... Fun fact! I do not remember my name.”

“Oh. Fun. Good. Okay. I shall call you... uhm.” Wallies eyes dart around. Okay. Desk. No that’s not a good name. Wall? CEILING? oh! Dust! Wait that’s rude. He taps his chin as the robot patiently waits. Smile ever so bright.

“Oh! When you turned on there was a Volt of electricity. So I’ll call you Volts. A temporary name I pro-“

“My name is now Volts!” The robot now named Volts exclaimed happily.

“Oh no...” Wallie facepalms then sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll deal with the laughs later. Tell me do you have any weird motor functions? Quirks so to say? Like I know a robot whose hand spins around on its wrist connector. Great for shredding guitars.”

“... Hm. Well! Fun fact-“ During the robots movement it seems to just lock up in place. Yet his mouth stays moving. “- I have no such quirks! Which is lucky for me right?”

“You just did it.”

“Did what?”

“Hm. Nevermind.” Wallie jots down something. Although happy the quirk happened NOW and not in the middle of a birthday party. His brain shivers at the memory. “Next question. What instrument do you play?”

Volts seems to finally begin to move. Head tilting side to side as his core tries to find that data. “Hm! Would you like to hear another fun fact?”

“Lay it on me.”

“I don’t remember my instrument! It had keys though.” Volts responds.

“... no name. Well. Okay NOW a name. But no knowledge of instruments either? Very.. uh. Wow. So people here would call that a loss cause and you’d likely vanish. But! We do have hope. Keys right? Like. A piano key. Finally we can have a good pianist in this place I have been DYING for some classical music.” Wallie gives a slight grin.

“Hm. Maybe! What’s a piano again?”

“Oh you’re gonna need help-“

And as the two began to walk out the door. It opens! And we are met with.

The end of the story.


	2. Day Two: A haunting of unimaginable imaginings!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Two of my August Writings! This time. A ghost learns about itself in the worst way possible.

It was maybe... 5PM in the afternoon when something was going on. Again.

Every day Samson had to deal with some random kid walking into his home. It was weird you know? He liked the outdoors so naturally he left the door open. Yet this kid with black hair and freckles all over his face would step in and glance around. Holding a flashlight and poking around. He looked ready to camp in the woods every time he stopped by. And it was ANNOYING. Especially since this kid would Ignore him the entire time he was around. It was only after Samson got angry and kicked his wall in frustration would the kid jump in fright and go running out the door. Nearly diving headfirst off the porch as if he just dropped a grenade to the ground. Dumb kid.

Samson considered calling the police a number of times. But he’s a nice guy. He would never want to just slam this kid in some slammer. Especially if he may be Neurodivergent. That’d stay on his conscious. But! He does get rather annoyed at this forceful audience. And the fact every little freak in the house would make him hunch up like a cat and scurry off.

Some days he’s left the door closed. But that kid somehow ALWAYS opens it. Like he’s got the keys to the house. Closing the door caused the kid to panic and actually try to jump out the window. Which was funny for a moment. But a little embarrassing to watch as he dove headfirst into some dirt and then ran off down the street. He’s considered finding out where the kid lives. Maybe to tell off his parents. But something in his mind told him he shouldn’t do that.

But one day when he came around, the kid looked determined. Determined for what? He didn’t know. But certainly was hoping the kid wouldn’t bring a match to his house. So he watched as the kid stride in same time again. 5PM. He had a cap on backwards and some board looking game in his hand.

But then he set it down and- oh my god it was an oujia board. Did he really think Samson’s house was haunted? Samson himself nearly laughed at the thought. But the kid looked deathly serious. Setting up the instructions and even putting some candles.

He seems to give a long sigh after lighting the candles. Then the first words Samson has ever heard from the boy finally came to life.

“Are there any spirits out there?” His voice was soft. Yet full of fear. Like in any corner something would jump out and get him.

When he didn’t get a response his lips pursed. Eyes darting around.

“Look. Kid there’s no ghost here. I would’ve known about it. I LIVE here.” Samson said to the kid. But, was once again ignored. Like always.

A thought crosses his mind. Maybe. The kid doesn’t like talking to people? Could this be his way of wanting communication with Samson that doesn’t involve a bunch of words?

Samson sighs. Well. If he’s wrong and the kid gets mad it’d be a change of pace. So he gets down on the floor with the kid. Knees tucked together before he grabs hold of the planchette on top of the board. And he begins to move it slowly. Almost immediately a gasp leaves the boys mouth as he stares wide eye.

Samson spells out. “No ghost. Just me.”

The boy seems to pick up speed in his breathing. Like he might hyperventilate. But then he stops and looks around. “... who are you?” He called out.

Hm. Okay. The kid isn’t angry so that’s a start. Samson sighs and leans up to look more at the letters. Then he begins to move the planchette again.

The boy watches every movement. Eyes laser focused as if looking away may cause it to disappear. “... S-Samson?” The boy asked. To which the person in question moves it to yes.

“... Hello Samson. Uhm. Oh. God I didn’t think I’d get this far. I mean every talking about this haunted house but me being the first to actually discover the ghost is just-“ the boy begins to needlessly ramble. But Samson zones it out.

Immediately the planchette moves over quickly to “I’m not a ghost.”

The boy bites his lip. “... but. Uhm. Okay. Could you tell me the year?”

Samson grumbled. Is this kid for real? He sighs. Fine. If this is the game they’ll play. He will play.

He moves over to the numbers and puts 1999. Causing the boy to pause. Hand raising to his lip. Growing antsy.

“Sir- or ma’am. Uhm. It’s 2020.” Those words caused Samson to stop. Then with a grunt he moves the planchette.

“No. Quit the joke.” The boy read allowed. Then frowned. “But I’m not joking. Uhm. Look! Or. Maybe look? Can you see phones? God I should’ve come more prepared.” He mentally chastises himself. Then raises up a rather strange object. It was rectangular like a phone. But.. too futuristic. This kid must be a son of one of those big companies.

After a moment of silence, Samson not knowing how to respond. The boy finally speaks up. Pulling the phone back.“.... uhm. Wait lemme go to the calendar.” He holds it up. And sure enough it’s the summer of 2020. But.

No. The kid could easily change that. Like changing the paper calendar and convincing your friend he slept through the month. 

“Proof.” Samson spelt out. He didn’t feel like writing more. It was annoying already to remember every Word for this.

“Uh. More proof? Well. Uhm. I guess a photo?” He shakily holds up the phone thing. And Samson throws up a peace sign since it’s pointed at him. Though his gaze was one of annoyance. There’s movement and the boy stops. Eyes darting up to face Samson for once. His breathing picks up as he stares almost through him.

“Show me.” Samson said. He wanted to prove the kid wrong. But also wanted to see how good the photo was. He’d try to maybe buy one if it is...  
His train of thought slows to a stop as he sees the picture. And he’s met with is NOT his house and NOT him. The walls behind seem old and decrepit. Like it hasn’t been touched or cleaned in years. Dust covered the air like it was its home base.

And the figure that SHOULD be Samson was not there. Instead a white puffy smoke almost could be seen. Nothing could be properly made out.

And in that moment. Samson realized what he was. A ghost. The ghost who lived in not a beautiful home. But an old one that has yet to be torn down.


	3. Day 3: Magical Lands and Magical Findings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of my August writings! In this story we find two couriers traveling to deliver packages.

A heavy sigh leaves his lungs as his gaze followed the wind brushing forward the clouds beneath the bridge. The clouds his eyes could never pierce. The bridge he was walking across sways dangerously and the other man with him seems to hold on for dear life.

“Ren?” The man holding on for dear life calls. And for a moment the one trying to pierce the clouds with his eyes doesn’t speak. Then his light blue eyes looked up lazily and a smile formed on his lips. “... What? Getting scared of a rickety bridge Kena?” He asked. The grin growing more dastardly as the others face turned a light shade of red. 

“I don’t understand how you can just... deal with heights like these and not get even a little queasy. Like. If we plummet off this thing we’d create only a tiny opening in those clouds for probably a second. Then never seen again! That’s like. Horrifying.” Kena retorts. Ren only laughs though. Running a hand through his golden hair and slowly beginning to cross the bridge.

Once close enough Ren looks the now shorter male up and down. Black hair. Freckles. Honey colored eyes. He puts a reassuring hand on the others shoulder. “If we plummet. We plummet together.” Ren said with a nod. Only for Kena to shake his head in frustration. “At least say we can make it over together!” He said. “But don’t say it now- or I’ll make sure you see what’s on the other side of those clouds.” Kena grumbled.

Ren moves to retort. But... a shadow overtakes them. Looming. Covering the entire bridge as if the entire world was cast into night. The two stopping as they looked up. Towards the vast mountains and cloudy underneath.

A beast that easily could climb over a mountain was walking past. Golden with blue streaks along its wings. A dragon. Here. Now.

And Kena relaxes a little in Ren’s hold. “.... I’ve seen that one before. I named them... Shoot. What was it.” Kena runs a hand through his hair. As if it would unlock the memory. And it seems to work as his eyes light up. “Oh! Jackson!”

“You named a giant dragon. Jackson?” Ren stares at him at little judgemental. Causing Kena to huff and cross his arms. “Well Jackson thinks its cool. And it’s a beautiful name for a beautiful beast!” Kena smirks. Putting a hand on his hips.

The two share a silent watch of the giant towering beast as it crossed from one place to another. Slow it walked. Yet covered enough ground to out pace for centuries. Millennia.

Kena is the first to the break the silence. “You know. It feels like... well. It feels like we’ve been seeing less of them? You know. I mean. Usually we don’t meet the same dragon. But here we are. It may just be coincident but...” His fingers curl and uncurl as he speaks. Trying to think of what to say.

“... do you think they’re going extinct?” Kena finally asked. And Ren pauses. His mind lingering the thought as he stared deep into the one eye he could see. Black. Uncaring of his tiny presence.

“.... I don’t know.” Ren admits.

And the two share a silence once more. This one lasting until the dragon is out of sight from the bridge. 

And that’s where this story ends.


	4. Day 4: Muscially I am fine. But on a stage I am afraid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day Four of my August writings! In this story Cherri and her band. Cherri and the Llamas finally perform live! But Cherri has a slight bit of stage fright.

“She’s chewing her nail.”

“She only does this when she’s anxious.”

“Can you two knock it off!” The woman barked at the two. Waving her hand at the two as she turned away. The two other woman seemed to grin as they were told off. The one on the left was the tallest of the group. Standing at 6’2. She had bright blonde that was streaked with black as if it was, black lightning. She wore a spiky choker but her lips were painted a deep blue. Her eyes a bright blue in contrast. She wore the signature jacket that the entire band wore. A black jacket with a blue and red llama on it. Lightning swirling around the magnificent creature. Her name was Alstar and she played bass.

The one to the right was 5’7 and had bright hazel eyes. Her lip was curled right into that dastardly grin. Though the kindest of the group she played the drums like no other. Her black hair was tied back in a bun. Which had a hat covering it mostly.she had a necklace that went down into her shirt. But the chain was silver. Her name was Jane.

The one biting her nail was the singer. And the second guitar. Her name was Cherri if it couldn’t be guessed. The shortest in the group standing at a 5’2. She wore the signature black llama jacket as well. Her arms covered in bandages and her shirt had another llama on it. This one was on fire. And looked evil! And it totally rocked. Her eyes were a honey gold color and her hair was put into giant dreads that went to her shoulder. The ends red.  
And the last band member was in the bathroom.

“Look I’m just... worried okay? I mean. Our first live performance and if we mess it up we’d- go down in the history books as the lamest band!” Cherri whined. Dragging her hands down her cheeks. Stretching that face of hers a little. 

“Chill. We’ve done a performance before. Like... in high school. We can do that again.” Alstar said. To which Cherri just groans. “I fell off stage that year and broke my nose.” Cherri grunts. “That last performer should’ve moved his bricks!” Jane responds.

“And. What happens if... my powers act up? You remember the garage when I got really into it? We had to fake that a giant storm came in!” Cherri exclaimed. To which the group fell silent.

Her powers. Something that had manifested during a guitar solo for a song. The aura that appeared and bam. A whirlwind of emotions poured from her and the guitar and wrecked the entire place. But it sounded beautiful. Well. The first minute. The second was things breaking and screaming. Which honestly would go great for the end of the song.

Alstar and Jane swap looks. Then turn back to her. “Fuck it. If that happens we’ll just act like you got hurt during it. Maybe you got set up. Or. Maybe we can just book it like there is no tomorrow.” Alstar then said.

The other two girls stare at her. Then shake their head and laugh. “Okay. Okay. God. Just.” Cherri shakes her head. “Well. Then let’s go-“

The door opens. To reveal. Another female. She had purple hair and red eyes. And wore the signature llama jacket. “Hey! Last band is done. We are up.” she said. Ah. She was Chell. The second singer.

Cherri sucks in a heavy breath. “... alright. Okay. Just uhm. One big fist bump before our careers plummet?” Cherri asked. And they all share a big fist bump and exit the room. Moving to the stage and performing their best songs.

It was the perfect night. It was what got their name out to the world.

And it is the end of the story.


	5. Day 5: Of Ties being Pulled and Thoughts burrowing forever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: almost the end of the week! Or. Almost to seven days! In this story a girl deals with her tie being pulled.

Wear a tuxedo they said!

You won’t gay panic about it cause no one will mess with you they said!

She lingers on those words as she sat on the weird couch at the back of the party she was just at. Her cheeks a deep rosy color as she rubbed at them. Her tie was longer than normal. She sort of sinks into the couch. As if she didn’t want to be there anymore. But what had just happened? Well. In short. They lied and she’s currently having a gay panic. Nothing too serious in some eyes. But in hers this was EVERYTHING. Especially since the other...

They pulled her tie! Cause she was moving to walk away or maybe she was just too tall? She’s like 5’8 and this little person was 5’3. Her brain can’t seem to remember the reason but it happened. But a little talking and the other tugged her tie to pull her face closer to their eye level. Whispering soft somethings as her face heated up. Their lips practically TOUCHED hers for a moment it felt like... what? Bliss? Poison? Did she poison her? Was this why she felt this away. She remembers her eyes darting down to the others hand. The rather,,, strong hands that pulled her down. Could they lift trucks? Could they kill her? They could definitely kill her. Just one more tug and her head probably would’ve flew to the other side and got dunked instead of an actual basketball- and oh. Wait. Why is her heart racing at the thought. That’s not good-

“Ma’am?” A voice called. A little head was peeking in the door. Maybe a kid? A teen? It snaps her from her thoughts as she looked up. “Uh yes?”

“Are you here for this party?” The kid asked. And She nods. Standing up. “Yeah. Is something wrong?”

“Well. Uhm. A kid deflated the bouncy castle...” the kid murmurs and she just- full stops. Cause that was NOT at the party she was just at.

“Wait. Bouncy castle? No. There was a poker table and-“

“We have a bouncy castle.” The kid insists. And she pauses. Feeling for her phone only to- remember she left it in the car. “Hey. What time is it?” She asks in a sweet voice. And the kid shifts a little. Pulling out a little pizza watch. “It’s 3PM Ma’am!” The kid said proudly.

And she stops again. Realizing something.

She has just gay panicked for three hours. Only to find out two things.

She’s hopelessly pansexual.

And hopelessly a bottom.

The story drifts to a closed as she leaves to help inflates the ball pit.


	6. Day 6: Strange Realizations and Warped Perceptions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of writing: in this short story a boy is met by a strange woman.

A weird buzzing was in his head. Like a pack of bees lived in there. Yet without the flapping of wings and dying of stings.

Samuel rubs at his head and groans. Pushing headphones into his ears and turning on a slow piano tune. It. Doesn’t help him at all. Instead it overfills his sensations. Pulling the headphones out a bit roughly he was reduced to just the buzzing again.

“Rough time again?” Asked a female voice behind him. He turns his head but- “don’t look at me.” She said. She looked like she worked for the federal government. Wearing a black suit and black shades INDOORS. he rolls his eyes. But doesn’t look. “.... so why are you here?”

“To give you this.” The woman said. And a hand moves and drops a... pill into his hand. A circular tablet. “Chew this and the buzzing will stop.”

“And why should I trust you?” Samuel asked. “Because.” She began, flipping a book. “If not for me your arm would be off your body.” 

Phantom pains shoot through his right arm that was in a cast. He stares. Then grimaces. “Doesn’t mean you’ll keep me alive.”

“Well then give it back. I’ll gladly give it to the next kid who needs it.” She said sternly. Samuel gave pause to that. Then grumbled and put the pill in his mouth. Chewing down on it. It tasted sweet. But had a rather sour aftertaste that nearly made him spit it out. He grimaced but,  
A sense of clarity washed over him as the buzzing reduced to nothing. He didn’t want to admit it. Not to some stranger. But she helped him in more ways than one now.

“So you came here just to give me that?” He asked. To which she shook her head and held out the book. He took it and- oh. His name.

A new assignment. To find the beast that had previously attacked him. He was to either capture it. Or kill it. He shudders at the thought.

“I’ll be coming as well. As we’ve learned sending just kids to do dangerous jobs is stupid. No matter how mystically powerful they can be.” The woman said. Pushing her blonde hair back as she stood up.

“We have to leave now. The window of opportunity is closing.” She told him. And he merely nods and stands up.

Closing the book and following after.

And this book. Is closed as well. As this was the end of the story.


	7. day 7: Of dice rolls and dungeoneers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 7 of my writing prompts! for this time its. DnD. literally just DnD

a heavy thud rattles the cavern walls as the slain beast fell. tongue hanging out almost comically. three heroes stand victorious, the bard Mashel. she was the shortest of the three despite being an orc. another stood three feet taller than her. Kerzelk the brave. a human warrior who everyone seemed to adore. a rather charming fellow. but the tallest was another orc. two orcs and a human. they were named Agathor! these three heroes now could get the loot from the dungeon. but outside this world something was happening.

"I should get more than these two! Without me we WOULD have died." it was the bard who spoke. she has her lip upturned into a pout angrily glaring at the other two. the human bard looks offended by this, his lip quivering as he stammered a response in disbelief. "w-w-well I remember dealing the final strike. a critical twenty if I do so remember this right!" he exclaimed. smacking the table a little. a dice rolling as the third just, stared quietly down at it.

the DM of this game gives a quiet sigh. running a hand through their hair as they turned to the two. "well I think you two both deserve equal like your rouge friend here." the DM said nudging his head towards them. they were simply spinning the d20 in their hand now. "the rouge gets however much they want. I'm just saying I think I am more deserving of the most since I boosted everyones health and nearly died TWICE!" the bard spoke. crossing her arms as she began another bicker with the human fighter. it was the usual with these two. bad blood? the want to the one up the other? they never seemed to go outside the two.

"I need Marshel and Kerzelk to roll perception with disadvantage." the DM suddenly said. The two turning in surprise before grunting and Marshel rolls first. she gives a hiss though, throwing her head back. "I got a natural one." she scoffed. "I cant even find my dice... oh thank you." the human fighter said to the rouge. he shakes it in his fist and rolls twice. then gives a defeated deflating sound. "a nat twenty to a three..."

"hm!" the DM gives a happy laugh. turning his head to look over the three. "upon inspection. the gold and riches from the vault has been stolen! not even dust off the coins remains-"

"WHAT!?" The fighter and bard stand up in astonishment. giving a scowl. "is this because of the argument? god I need a refill on my drink." the bard said. standing from the table, the fighter follows after her with a quiet mutter under his breath.

the room finally grows silent. and the DM quietly turns to the rouge. who had a neutral expression. "so." the DM began, "when will you tell them?"

and the rouge simply grins.


End file.
